


The Dweller In Death

by necroMatador



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, i played a surana in the original dragon age, then i made a feral awful bloodmage version of him in DAI, this is about how he fell in this AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27785968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necroMatador/pseuds/necroMatador
Summary: "My name was Surana.  Nobody called me that anymore.  They barely called me by my first name.  We were treated like less than trash at the tower.  The other mages viewed us as dangerous because of the time we spent outside the Circle.  The Templars viewed us as Abominations waiting to happen, convinced that the Dalish traffic with demons and practice blood magic.  Well, not all Dalish do…"
Kudos: 1





	The Dweller In Death

**Author's Note:**

> Some Dragon Age writing about my alternate version of Elian, my first Grey Warden character. Alternate Universe Elian is a horrible necromancer/blood mage, and my main Inquisitor. Figure that one out lol.

My name was Surana, shared with my father who raised me and loved me and kept me as safe as he could. If he had not been there I would have been taken long ago, shipped off as all mages are from the moment they show signs of magic. Shut up in a tower like some forlorn princess from a fairy-tale.

My name was Surana and I was, for all intents and purposes, an apostate. My father hid my talents, taught me to control them, and kept me safe. When it became too dangerous in the city, he sent me to his home clan and I became a Dalish. I trained and lived and loved and laughed. I was third in line to become Keeper, I had friends, I had a family in bond if not blood. Then the Templars came.

“My name is Surana!” I cried against the Templars who called us ‘knife-ear’ and 'maleficar’ and 'monster’ and 'demon’. They dragged me across the muddy ground to the boat docks and shoved me roughly into the cargo hold of the boat. There I sat, shackled alongside the few other surviving members of my clan. They laughed derisively, shoved and elbowed. They threatened us and when we did not comply they knocked us to the ground as the boat lurched unsteadily away from the docks to the tower out in the distance.

My name was Surana. Nobody called me that anymore. They barely called me by my first name. We were treated like less than trash at the tower. The other mages viewed us as dangerous because of the time we spent outside the Circle. The Templars viewed us as Abominations waiting to happen, convinced that the Dalish traffic with demons and practice blood magic. Well, not all Dalish do…I am small and easily overlooked even under the vigilant eyes of the Templars. What I got up to on my own (and it’s always on my own, I learn from no being but myself) when I managed to sneak my way into one of the many rat-hole nooks and crannies of the tower…well…that’s anyone’s guess. They would regret what they did to me and my clan.

My name is no longer Surana. I need a new one, I think. I ask absently aloud, and the Templar in front of me nods sleepily. There is chaos above, yelling about blood mages and Abominations. But I am so far below. I snuck and slunk through the panicking masses, hiding and remaining unseen as I moved through the cracks and took myself a Templar. It had been done once before, or attempted at least. Unsuccessfully. A mage and a Templar, all you need to open the doors to the phylactery chamber. It was never said that the Templar need do it of his own free will. I tighten my grasp on his mind as I walk through the unlocked doors to my phylactery, nestled amongst so many others. As I feel something in him snap and his body crumple to the floor, I carefully grab only my own phylactery. I revel as I smash the fragile glass into the ground and watch the blood seep into the stone and wood floor.

My name is no longer Surana, and I slink back carefully out of the basements and insert myself into the chaos, playing the part of the frantic innocent. The Grey Wardens come. The Abominations and blood mages are defeated (but not all of them) and when the doors are opened again I slip out through the crannies and the nooks and the rat-holes. And I am free once more.

My name is Lavellan. Lavellan, the rat. Lavellan the sneaking pest whom the “good and righteous” seek to destroy. Lavellan the dweller in death, devourer of corpses, creature, monster, menace. They thought me dangerous? They were right.

My name is Lavellan.

Elian Lavellan.


End file.
